


Things I Told Malcolm X While In My Wrong Mind

by Warp5Complex_Archivist



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-03-01
Updated: 2006-03-01
Packaged: 2018-08-15 21:53:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8074048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Warp5Complex_Archivist/pseuds/Warp5Complex_Archivist
Summary: Trip and Malcolm have another shuttlepod adventure. Fighting a concussion, Trip makes some interesting confessions. (05/29/2004)





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Kylie Lee, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Warp 5 Complex](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Warp_5_Complex), the software of which ceased to be maintained and created a security hazard. To make future maintenance and archive growth easier, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but I may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Warp 5 Complex collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Warp5Complex).

  
Author's notes: Spoilers, 1.05 "Unexpected," 3.24 "Zero Hour," general Season 3.  
  
Even though this is A/Tu (sorry Tucker Reedites, I'm devout) it's entirely T/R interaction. Don't know why, I don't mess with the muse. I'm hir bitch, after all. This is fluffy, happy, uplifting, largely angst free (I'm still a slash writer), yummyness. Apologyfic for depressing you all. I'm not sure about some of the technical stuff. So what do you think about my attempt at comedy/romantic fluff? If you'll don't like it, I'll go back to my tragic underground.  


* * *

"Commander?" Malcolm asked the smoke filled room, standing cautiously. "Trip?" They had explored plenty of spheres this way. It seemed that the anomaly field around this one was particularly thick, however. They had gotten tossed around pretty badly, and Malcolm could tell by the emergency lighting that the shuttlepod didn't take it very well. He'd do a damage assessment, but first he had to make sure Trip was all right. The engineer had been trying to get more power to the engines when a particularly rough bit of turbulence had sent them flying. The last Malcolm had heard from his friend had been a pain-filled yelp. He sure hoped Trip was...he didn't want to think about what he could be.

Malcolm almost stumbled over the prone form before him, marveling at how far the jolt had thrown the commander. He knelt to check for a pulse. It was going strong, thank God! He went to shake the engineer slightly, then noticed the slightly odd list to his slump. He pulled out his hand scanner. It appeared as though Trip had dislocated his shoulder, and judging by the blood all over his forehead, managed to sustain a fairly major concussion. At least the powers that be had kept his condition stable—at least for the moment.

Having dealt with quite a few dislocated shoulders himself, Malcolm figured he should do his friend a favor and pop it back into place before Trip regained consciousness. A dislocated shoulder could hurt like nothing else. Malcolm turned Trip onto his other side and braced himself as he grabbed the wayward limb and pulled.

He heard a strangled scream and the next thing he knew he was stumbling back against the pilot's chair, pain shooting through his face, more specifically his nose. Malcolm blinked away the spots and wiped the warm slightly slimy liquid that could only be blood on his shirtsleeve, glancing up at Trip, who was huddled in the far corner, cradling his right arm.

"You hit me!" Malcolm accused, still in shock.

Trip seemed to be fixed on something behind him, but Malcolm knew there wasn't anything there, so he didn't turn to look. "You're trying to kill me."

Malcolm started to roll his eyes, but stopped when he realized how much it hurt. "I was doing you a favor. You had a dislocated shoulder. I was setting it."

"Oh," Trip said, not moving from his protective crouch, "Who are you?" he asked the wall behind Malcolm, who turned to find nothing there.

"What are you talking about?" he complained with an exasperated huff. His nose hurt and they needed to do a damage assessment, he didn't have time to deal with a concussed engineer. At the confused look in the commander's eyes he amended, "I'm Malcolm. You know, your friend, armory officer, the guy who likes to blow things up, and play chess with you."

"I know who _you_ are." Trip sneered sarcastically, eyes returning his gaze to the left corner of the shuttle behind Malcolm. Of course he knew who Malcolm was, but why in the hell were there two of him?

His quantum mechanics teacher had once said that variables didn't always represent unknowns, in fact, they usually represented known things you hadn't figured out yet. And while physics and life were separate entities for most people, Trip lived and breathed them. Then again, everyone had to live and breathe them because they were the means by which everyone lived and breathed. No matter. For him, life and engineering were inseparable. And there was one thing engineers always knew to do when faced with a problem, and that was to identify the variables. His quantum mechanics teacher had said that you should always name your variables, because then you would at least know one more thing about them.

So, name the variables—that was easy. The Malcolm leaning over him, clutching his nose and cursing unfamiliar swear words was Malcolm X and the other one, crouched in the corner doing something or other was Malcolm Y.

"You're not going to hit me again, are you?" Malcolm asked sarcastically. Normally he would be ecstatic if Trip managed to get in a hit to the head. It would mean the engineer was actually learning something in their training session rather than letting Corporal Cole get her hands all over him, but getting hit in the head himself because he was focused on helping an injured friend not defending himself, was hardly his idea of progress.

Trip leaned in close even though it made his head hurt. He needed Malcolm X to understand, "I was aiming for _him_ ," he whispered, giving the other Malcolm a furtive glance, unable to focus on him—probably due to his stealthily shifting nature. No one could do shifty like Malcolm, that's for sure. "You're like a panther. A short English panther," he remarked expertly. "Do they have panthers in England? Where do they even have panthers? India, I guess. There was one in the Jungle Book. Does that mean they have them in Malaysia too?"

Malcolm rolled his eyes. What the hell was Trip talking about? Children's books? He left the engineer slumped in the corner and focused on a damage assessment, looking down at the blinking lights of the pilot's consol. Communications were still operating, though that did them little good within the cloaking barrier. He was no engineer but unless Trip could both pull his wits together and pull a rabbit out of his hat, they weren't going anywhere. No, their best bet would be to repair the damage to the life support systems and wait for a rescue. While Trip seemed a bit out of it, he was awake and moderately coherent, so they should be fine. Considering the myriad dangers exploring the other spheres had presented, Malcolm doubted the captain would wait long after the expected return time to mount a rescue mission. Now he just had to find the environmental controls. He picked up the emergency repair kit and began unscrewing the casing around the life support system...

His train of through was interrupted by a loud crash and some very violent American expletives. _What now?_ he thought with an inward groan. He turned to find Trip splayed out on the floor, half clad in an EV suit, gripping his injured shoulder with tears in his eyes. Malcolm's frustration immediately melted to sympathy. "Are you alright?"

Trip could only nod and bite back the tears. He certainly wasn't trying to put his arm in the EV suit again, that's for sure. There were needles of pain trying to poke him to death, like some sort of evil acupuncture. "Damn Chinese," he grunted.

Malcolm just shook his head before he allowed his concern to fade into a disappointed scowl, "What, exactly, do you think you're doing, Trip?"

"Gotta repair the port thruster ignition system." Trip winced. "Spacewalk."

"The hell you are," Malcolm said, placing his hands on his hips. "You're in no condition to repair the port thruster ignition system, Commander. You're not in your right mind."

Trip furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. "That's strange; I don't think I'm in my wrong one. The only way to fix the propulsion system is a spacewalk, and you're not even close to qualified to do it."

Malcolm gave an exasperated growl, and went back to unscrewing the casing around the life support systems. He caught Trip fumbling with the EV helmet out of the corner of his eye. "Don't even think about it," he warned without looking up.

"Last time I checked, _I_ outranked _you._ Both of you," he said maliciously. Malcolm Y had a sinister glint in his eye, he had to keep him in check.

"Medical override," Malcolm responded indignantly.

"Phlox isn't even here."

"I'm your doctor at the moment."

"You are not the boss of me."

Malcolm heaved a frustrated sigh. If you can't beat them, join them, "I...we, outnumber you."

"Fine." Trip scowled, folding his arms over his chest and wincing when he seemed to remember his dislocated shoulder.

"Come here, Trip. I'll put your am in a sling so you remember not to jar it, and you can tell me exactly how to replace this fried circuitry." Trip seemed to eye him warily and Malcolm heaved yet another sigh, noting the skeptical scowl on the commander's face. _And I'm supposed to be the paranoid one,_ he thought. "Last time I tried to help you, _I_ ended up worse for the wear, remember?"

Trip nodded, cautiously, bending to examine the conduit Malcolm had open, having to steady himself against the wall. Malcolm reached for the survival kit and found a blanket he could tie into a sling and some bandages he could wrap around that head wound.

As Malcolm X wrapped a bandage around his head, Trip couldn't help but examine Malcolm Y out of the corner of his eyes, despite the protests that he look straight ahead. Something was very off here. Trip could sense it, especially when he looked down at the conduits Malcolm X needed him to help fix. They didn't used to look like this, did they? "Mal?"

"Yes?"

"Which one of these conduits do you want to fix?"

_Damn._ Malcolm rolled his eyes. The satisfaction was worth the pain. "Trip, why don't you close your eyes? Visualize the life support systems on the shuttlepod. Can you do that for me?"

Trip found the picture to be much clearer in his mind. He'd built the damn thing, so he could switch over an see it in blueprints if he wanted too...or rotate it. This was actually sort of fun...

"Still with me, Commander?" Malcolm barked the rank, trying desperately to keep Trip's attention.

"Yep."

"Good. Now imagine it's burnt from the third capacitor from the top to just before the flux regulation circuitry."

"Ooh, that looks nasty!" Trip exclaimed with a devilish grin.

"Yes, it does," Malcolm took a deep breath, trying to control his frustration. It was like talking to a seven-year-old—a seven-year-old that just happened to have the knowledge to save both your arses. "Now, would you mind telling me how to fix it?"

"Not at all, but you didn't say the magic word." Trip pouted with a loopy smile.

"Fine. Would you _please_ tell me how to fix the life support systems before we end up freezing to death—again."

"That wasn't very pleasant, was it? Though I believe the company might be a bit better this time. The more the merrier, ya know?"

"Trip, will you _please_ try to focus." Maybe this eyes closed thing wasn't the best idea after all.

"Oh, right. You just have to reroute power through the fifth capacitor on your left. Don't try to remove the burnt circuitry, there's some important stuff sitting on top of it. I can at least help absorb the extra energy that you're going to be shunting through the air filtration relays."

So that was his mistake. Malcolm stopped trying to deal with the burnt out circuits and it was only a minute before he was finished. Wiping the sweat fro his brow, he turned to where Trip was standing, half out of his EV suit and staring.

"You know, you're kind of cute." Trip said to Malcolm Y. Perhaps he could play both sides against the middle, utilize his powers of seduction. Sure, they might be a tad out of practice, but no one could resist the Tucker charms.

Malcolm heaved a sigh, putting down his tools to help Trip out of the bottom of the EV suit. The second lady's-man Trip Tucker started coming on to him -or the air a few feet to his right- he knew he was in trouble. "You have a concussion." He responded evenly. Moving Trip's hand to his shoulder so the Engineer could steady himself when stepping out of the suit.

Not that Trip wasn't attractive...and Malcolm would be lying if he said he had never thought of taking their friendship to the next level, but he knew it would never work. The same things that made them such great friends would only end up tearing them apart in a relationship. Not to mention the fact that Malcolm would never want to live in the blast radius of the mess in Trip's cabin. Besides, Trip had never once looked at him, or any of the same gender in that way. In fact, Malcolm found he caught a large portion of the male crew looking at his friend's assets, including the captain upon occasion. No, it seemed his sexuality was the only part of his life in which Trip was straight as an arrow. And he was a superior officer, and Malcolm didn't break the fraternization regs, even if Archer seemed to think they didn't matter on Enterprise. He wouldn't even break them for _her._

Trip shook him out of his reverie by patting him seductively on the leg. Malcolm wondered how he got to be sitting so close. "So what? Concussion or not, you're still cute."

Well, if he could play along enough to acknowledge there were two of him when their clearly weren't, he supposed it wouldn't be unethical to indulge this particular train of thought. I would make for good blackmail material latter. He stifled a mischievous grin as he busied himself with an attempt to repair the propulsion system. "You've never shown interest in men before, Trip." He said calmly. While he had never explicitly said anything to his friend, Malcolm was certain Trip knew he swung both ways. After initially overemphasizing his heterosexuality to protect the ridiculous infatuation he once had with the engineer, Malcolm had let bits and pieces slip here and there.

"I'll have you know, I've had my fair share of men—hotter ones than you, I'm sure." Trip smirked indignantly, slumping against the bulkhead behind him. Juvenile competitiveness: another thing that Trip brought out in him that was better for buddies than for a relationship.

Malcolm raised his eyebrows. "Really? And how come I've never heard about any of your male conquests, pray tell?"

"Didn't want to lead you on, you know. I've sworn-off men."

Malcolm put down his tools, he'd reached an impasse anyway; even in his dazed and confused state, Trip was right—propulsion could only be fixed from outside the shuttle. He turned to see wide blue eyes dappled with pain even in their dilated and unfocused state. His heart went out to his friend. "What happened?" he asked gently, reaching for Trip's trembling hand. Trip seemed to look right through him into some past world.

"He broke my heart," Trip whispered quietly, remembering that genuinely smiling face that he could only see at night when he flipped through his old photo albums or played old datachips of smiling messages. They had promised that they wouldn't get too involved. Yeah right.

Malcolm wasn't sure if Trip would even end up remembering any of this conversation, but he was going to make sure he was there for his friend no matter what. Trip had helped him through so many tough times, and this hurt must have been buried deep for him to only ever bring it up when suffering from head trauma.

"Just because one broke your heart doesn't mean _all_ men are out to get you." Malcolm said gently. _So you can strop treating me like I'm going to bite._

Trip chuckled, "I know _that,_ silly. I just feel...I know this sounds really stupid, but I feel as though a relationship with another man would be cheating."

"You loved him that much?" Malcolm wondered fleetingly if any of this was even real. He had never picked up on this bittersweet sadness before. Sure, since finding out about Lizzie's death Malcolm had seen all degrees of sadness in his friend, from angry to depressed to anguished, but he had never seen any indication of this heart-deep ache.

"I still do," Trip said with a hollow laugh. "Even after all that's happened, I sometimes wish he would come back to save me. He's the only one who could ever save me, you know. He's done it so many times before. But I'm not even sure he could save me this time, Mal."

Malcolm didn't know what to say, he was still a novice in this emotional comfort stuff. He just turned to enfold the engineer in a firm embrace. "Hey, I'm here. We're all here to save you, but you've got to let us."

He could feel Trip's tears warm on his chest, "I know, Mal. I just...I guess a part of me's not ready to let go of the hurt quite yet. Sometimes I think it's the only thing keeping me going. Some day I'll tell him how much it hurts."

"You don't have to wait around for him, Trip," Malcolm said, carefully. The quicker Trip let go of this, the better off they'd all be.

Trip pulled away, eyes darting back and forth suspiciously. "I'm not gonna cheat," he said indignantly, speaking to the corner.

Malcolm reached out a placating hand. "I know that, buddy. Calm down. I meant that maybe you're using this as an excuse—an excuse not to move on."

Trip's eyebrows furrowed. Malcolm Y did have a point. Maybe he did have to just bite the bullet and move on. He'd pined over him long enough and while he was certain that these feelings were returned neither of them had to balls to really do anything about it, especially after the Expanse. He'd changed so much. Maybe when this was all over they would no longer be the two happily in love they used to be.

Trip heaved a despondent sigh. "All my female friends accuse me of thinking with my dick, but why doesn't anyone ever accuse people of thinking with their career?" he asked petulantly.

"Excuse me?" Malcolm asked, wondering where Trip's shattered mind would lead them next.

"Had to always put my career first. We were on-again-off-again lovers, friends in between. But we could never forget each other—anyone else just never lived up. You know, like that song, 'funny but it seems I always wind here with you, nice to know somebody loves me...'" Malcolm grimaced at the off-key intonation, but didn't want to interrupt the emotional outpouring. "Always did like the Carpenters...jazzy blues...you can play that on the harmonica."

Trip stopped, his train of thought crashing into a wall of dizziness in a great show of fireworks behind his eyes. He must have swayed because he felt Malcolm's urgent grip on his arm.

"Are you alright?"

"Just a little dizzy—seeing spots, ya know? I haven't had my afternoon cuppa coffee."

Malcolm scowled; he doubted this had anything to do with lack of coffee. Trip may have hit his head one too many times. What if? No...he wouldn't allow himself to think that. "You'll be alright," he said, more to reassure himself than Trip.

"No I won't!" Malcolm tried to hide his shock at the vehemence in Trip's words. He wasn't saying that he was dying, was he? Malcolm wouldn't let him give up that easily. "We've always held back, tried to hide how deep it really goes, kept it casual, ya know?" Malcolm tried not to make his sigh of relief too obvious—Trip was still talking about his emotional issues. "If we can't even sacrifice career for love, could it really be love?" Trip turned anguished blue eyes on him, looking as though the world hinged on his answer, though Malcolm supposed that, in a way, Trip's world did.

"Well..." he began carefully, "...obviously only you know what you feel, but people rarely act with that kind of philosophy in mind. Perhaps he insists on putting your career first because he loves you so much. Perhaps he just wants what's best for you."

"I'm not so sure anymore," Trip huffed, scooting closer to Malcolm. "I was going to ask him to marry me," he said wearily, pillowing his head on Malcolm's shoulder. "When Enterprise finished its mission I was going forsake all this and just do it. I don't think I could go on without him anymore."

Malcolm saw Trip's eyelids drooping, and gave him a gentle shake, careful not to dislodge his shoulder. "Hey, you can't go to sleep just yet."

"Why? I'm tired." Trip wanted nothing more than to rest tired eyes, the darkness seemed so peaceful, so comforting after so many sleepless nights.

"You haven't finished telling me about the man you were going to marry. How were you going to do it?"

"The first time we kissed was in Mexico. We were going to go cave diving in some of the volcanic lakes in the Yucatan." Another side of Trip Malcolm had never seen. They didn't seem to have a particularly good track record when it came to caves, especially considering that time they ended up dangling off the side of a cliff. Trip had never said anything about caving—underwater no less!

"We didn't actually end up doing any diving. Got to the lakeside and...well...got distracted." Malcolm smiled—that would explain it. "So anyway, the night before we left, we went out on the town. It was hot as hell—humid heat though, the kind that makes you want to tear clothes off not crawl into a hole and die. The stars were out, and for the first time in my life I was under a magnificent starscape without thinking about exploration. I was too enchanted by his nearness to think of anything else. We'd been dancing around it for months, and it seemed that night there was just something in the air. He couldn't keep his hands off me and I was flirting completely shamelessly. I'm surprised he didn't knock me out for being so goddamn cheesy."

"If _you_ thought it was cheesy, it must have been really bad."

"I won't deny it. We laughed about it later, though I'm not sure he was even listening to what I was saying half the time. There was this great mariachi band playing in an open aired restaurant on the coast, with a dance floor and those paper lanterns and everything. We had a few drinks in us, and he playfully asked me if I'd serenade him. I just walked up to the bandstand, grabbed the guy's guitar and started singing, walked over to him and kneeled and everything."

"I'd like to hear that," Malcolm said with a chuckle, instantly regretting it when Trip belted out a very off-key Spanish lyric, butchered by the southern twang. "Mercy, mercy!" Malcolm yelped, covering his ears.

"Hey, I have an excellent singing voice," Trip informed him authoritatively. "Used to sing in the church choir."

"I didn't know you were religious."

"I'm not. Took the doubt part of 'una fe sin duda es una fe muerta,' a tad too seriously. Still, you've never been to a true southern Baptist church. God can easily get lost in the party."

"I didn't know you spoke Spanish."

"It's a little rusty, but I did grow up in Florida, after all. Really impressed the Cuban girls and a few of the guys too," he said with a wink. "But you're distracting me." Malcolm didn't realize Trip actually had a point to be distracted from, so he just shrugged. "So I'm done serenading, and ask him to dance through the applause. They play one of those slow 'romances,' love ballads, especially for us. And before I know it we're kissing. I'd never been kissed like that before or by anyone else since. I know it sounds cheesy, but I fell in love with that kiss. The second we got back from our mission I was going to serenade him, dress up in full mariachi getup and ask him to marry me."

Malcolm didn't consider himself the mushy type -he was an armory officer after all- but he had to fight the urge to heave a contented sigh at the romance of it all. He wished he could create some romantic moments of his own once they got back home. "That sounds like a good plan."

"Mmmhmm..." Trip remarked, eyelids fluttering shut.

Malcolm couldn't allow him to fall asleep, especially not when Enterprise should be mounting a rescue mission any minute now. "Hey, why don't you tell me a story?"

"Did I tell you about our first kiss?"

"Yep," Malcolm said with a gentle smile, trying not to let his worry at the dazed eyes the engineer just revealed show.

"What about the time we had sex on top of the warp reactor?"

"You what?!" Malcolm shouted.

"Always wanted to do it. Kind of an engineer's fetish, ya know?" Malcolm sympathized. He had his own fantasies involving phase cannons, handcuffs, and sparing sessions, but he was never going to reveal those to his friend, even if he ever found himself equally concussed.

Of course the second he got the image of Trip and this mystery guy going at it atop the warp reactor out of his head, the security officer in him kicked into gear. He frowned. Trip noted the sour expression and laughed. "Not while it was in use, you dunce! You may be the security officer, but no one knows engine room safety protocols better'n me. Though that won't stop me from fantasizing about doing it when it's on. You know how that baby purrs..."

"So...in construction...you snuck in?"

"Rank hath its privileges."

"You did clean it afterwards?" He gulped.

"What's the fun in that?" Trip asked with a wink.

Malcolm didn't know whether to be disgusted or impressed...he'd gone through his own 'public-places' phase, after all. Though he'd never dare bring a civilian into a top security research and development facility to have sex on top of Starfleet's pride and joy...wait a second. Security was pretty damn tight, especially in the final phases of construction...how did...unless it wasn't a civilian. It must be someone on the project...someone who Trip had known for years...rank hath its...no, it couldn't be. "Trip?"

"Hmm?" Trip looked up from some interesting and invisible pattern on the floor he seemed to have been examining.

"Do I know this..."

"Enterprise to shuttlepod one." Archer's voice came through the com to interrupt him.

"The cavalry's arrived! Jonny, my shining knight in white amour!" Trip exclaimed, trying to get to his feet only to collapse with a yelp of pain as he knocked his shoulder against the bulkhead behind him.

The concern in the captain's voice was evident even through the static, "Trip? Are you alright?"

Trip seemed ready to speak, but Malcolm took mercy on him and answered for him. There was only so much embarrassment one engineer could take, after all. "The commander seems to have sustained a fairly severe head injury, Sir. The sooner you can get out of here the better. We hit a particularly difficult anomaly field. I recommend against sending another shuttlecraft. I would suggest the grappler. I'm transmitting out coordinates."

"Understood. Did you sustain any injury in the turbulence, Lieutenant?"

"No, Sir, but I'm rather concerned about the commander."

"I'll have Phlox standing by."

Moments later, Malcolm heard the familiar clang of the grappler latching onto the shuttlepod's hull and he finally released the breath he didn't know he'd been holding. "You see, Trip, we're going to be alright."

"I knew he'd save me," Trip said with a goofy smile.

* * *

Before he knew it they were back in the shuttle bay and someone was opening the doors from the outside. Malcolm was still sitting next to Trip, who seemed to have slipped deep into his own thoughts. Malcolm was just glad he was still awake.

The captain seemed to move faster than the speed of light as he rushed into the shuttle to kneel at Trip's side. Trip lazily turned dazed eyes to meet the captain's, squinting to make out his worried features. "Jonny! I was just telling Malcolm X about the time we had sex on top of the warp reactor," he said matter-of-factly.

So he was right! Malcolm wasn't sure whether he should be proud or disturbed. His captain and his chief engineer going at it atop the engine? It was just wrong. And judging by the deep shade of red Archer had gone, Malcolm guessed he knew exactly how wrong it was too.

For a spiteful second Malcolm thought the captain was in there to make sure Trip didn't let anything slip, but one look at the tenderness in his eyes as he stroked fingers casually through the fine blonde mane, told him otherwise.

"I love you," Trip whispered, the depth of caring in his eyes transcendent.

Archer must have heard the commotion Phlox and T'Pol made as they burst through the doors behind them, but he didn't flinch, captivated by love-kissed blue eyes. "I love you too," he said quietly, but loud enough to warrant eyebrow-raises all around. Jonathan Archer was many things, but he was not the type to reject such an honest plea for confirmation. Trip just smiled and drifted into unconsciousness,

The stunned silence lasted only a moment before Phlox rushed forward with his medical scanner, calling to the waiting medTechs and ordering them to load Trip onto a stretcher. They practically had to pry Archer's hand from Trip's before the Doctor could whisk him off to sickbay.

"He'll be fine. Though I really wish he would stop hitting his head," the Denobulan said cheerfully over his shoulder.

T'Pol made a graceful exit, leaving Malcolm and his captain alone in the shuttlepod. Archer stood and offered Malcolm his hand.

"Malcolm?"

"Yes, Sir?"

"What happened to your face? I though you said you weren't hurt."

"Oh, this isn't from getting thrown around in the anomaly field, this is from the commander. He punched me when I tried to pop his shoulder back in."

"Trip does have a pretty mean left hook when he puts his mind to it, doesn't he?"

"Indeed," Malcolm agreed, gingerly poking his broken nose. _Ouch!_ So maybe he should just leave it alone. He wouldn't object to a little of Phlox's happy juice, as long as he didn't have to have eel therapy or anything else of the sort.

As they followed Phlox and his patient to sickbay, Archer seemed to shift uncomfortably, "Umm...Lieutenant...Malcolm...about whatever Trip might have told you..."

"Don't worry, Captain, your secret's safe with me," Malcolm replied with a grin.

"I do love him, you know," Archer said softly. "After this mission's over, I'm going to ask him to marry me."

Malcolm's grin widened. Perhaps romance did triumph sometimes. If it could work for Trip and Archer perhaps it could work between he and Hoshi too. He could hardly wait.

* * *

Earth hung magnificent before them, somehow more beautiful than any planet of equal landmass, swirls of clouds clinging to it the way they all clung to it in even the darkest moments of the past year. The bridge was silent as they all admired the view they thought they might never see again. Malcolm met Hoshi's eyes across the bridge, and she winked at him. He smiled back, heart fluttering. _This is what we fought so hard for,_ he thought with an inward sigh, glad to see his home planet, circled by the familiar orbital satellites. _Home at last._

It appeared as though the captain was about to repeat that same sentiment out loud, because he took one of his deep speech-making breaths, only to be interrupted by the swish of the lift doors opening.

The silence turned from awe and reflection to shock and the prelude to laughter as Enterprise's chief engineer stepped onto the bridge wearing an outfit that had no business being on any tall and skinny blond-haired blue-eyed American male under any circumstances. Then again, Trip had already done a lot of things tall and skinny blond-haired blue-eyed American men had no business doing, like getting pregnant, so Malcolm supposed he shouldn't be surprised.

Taking advantage of everyone else's astonishment (T'Pol's eyebrows seemed to defy the laws of physics as they rose into her hairline), Trip strode purposefully in front of the view screen and knelt on one knee before the captain's chair. Malcolm's eyebrows mimicked T'Pol's when he found out that, in his right mind, Trip could in fact sing and speak Spanish rather well.


End file.
